


Diving In

by respoftw



Series: 30 prompt OTP challenge - McShep [15]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Stargate, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 08:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13713828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: The thing about near-death experiences was that they temporarily rewired your brain. At least, that was Rodney's excuse for how he had come to find himself on a boat in the middle of the ocean, watching as someone demonstrated how to breathe oxygen through a flimsy tube





	Diving In

**Author's Note:**

> 15\. Trying an extreme sport

The thing about near-death experiences was that they temporarily rewired your brain. At least, that was Rodney's excuse for how he had come to find himself on a boat in the middle of the ocean, watching as someone demonstrated how to breathe oxygen through a flimsy tube.

Feeling his chest start to tighten, the only reason Rodney didn't suspect a heart attack was that he'd lived through one already and, as awful as this feeling was, he knew it was derived from panic. In a funny way that made it worse. At least with a heart attack there was a concrete reason for the pain in his chest. The blood supply to part of his heart had been cut off, causing the death of part of his heart muscle. It had been horrible and - yes - his survival of it had temporarily rewired his brain into thinking that diving with sharks was a good idea, but at least it was tangible. This, on the other hand, was all in his head.

“Hey, buddy, are you OK?”

Great. Rodney would have cursed out loud if only he could draw in enough breath. He made an attempt to wave off the Good Samaritan who had come to his aid but found his hands captured instead. The Good Samaritan pulled him up off the wooden bench he was sitting on and guided him gently off the open deck of the Atlantis and into the wheelhouse.

Those same calloused but gentle hands pushed him back down to a seated position and kept pressing down until Rodney's head was resting between his legs. They left him for a moment before returning with a paper bag that Rodney accepted less than gratefully, snapping the bag out of the gently careful hands and almost ripping it in his hurry to start breathing into it.

Gradually, Rodney could feel the hyperventilation slacking off and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, sending a prayer to whatever nautical gods happened to be listening that the Good Samaritan with the calloused hands had left him alone to recover with what little dignity he had left after causing a huge scene in front of six other insane people who had actually paid good money for the privilege of diving with sea monsters that would _eat_ them given the chance.

“Second thoughts on the diving thing, huh?”

Rodney did curse out loud this time. _Of course_. Why would the universe let him get out of this with a shred of dignity still intact when it could take it all?

“Don't sweat it,” annoying Samaritan continued, a tinge of amusement tinting his words. “It happens more than you would think.”

“You mean some people realise that diving with sharks is idiocy and a damn good way to get yourself killed?” Rodney snapped. “Who would have thought?” He looked up and almost groaned out loud as he caught sight of who had helped him. _Great, just what he needed._ As if he wasn't already angry at having made a fool of himself, he had to go and do it in front of one of the most attractive men he'd ever seen.

The man in front of him was slim, his hips almost slinky as they leaned against the console opposite Rodney. The neoprene wetsuit which clung awkwardly to Rodney's lumpy bits seemed to hug the Good Samaritan’s body, emphasising his lean strength. He also had twice as much hair as Rodney, all of it sticking up at different angles in a way that surely defied physics.

Good Samaritan shifted a little uncomfortably and Rodney realised he'd been staring too long. Hastily, he looked away and found an unopened bottle of water sitting on the bench next to him.

“I thought you might be thirsty after the, uh - -“

“Panic attack,” Rodney helpfully supplied, opening the bottle. “You can say the words.” The water felt amazing as he swallowed it down, soothing and cool. After a couple of gulps, he slumped back in his seat, his anger at the situation replaced by defeat. “God, I'm an idiot,” he muttered. “I don't know what the hell I was thinking. Me: swim with sharks? I work in academics, I already do that for a living.”

Good Samaritan snorted at that, causing Rodney to look up.

“You think I'm joking?” he said. “You obviously haven't been to any physics conferences recently. Hell, Kavanagh tried to steal the presentation notes on my wormhole theory from out of my jacket pocket while I was literally having a heart attack on the conference hall floor. Blood in the water, right?”

Good Samaritan made a sympathetic face. “They sound worse than sharks to me,” he said.

It was Rodney's turn to snort. “Right. Of course. I forgot who I'm talking to. You actually dive with sharks for a living. Of course, you would defend them. Speaking of, shouldn't you be out there leading the unsuspecting victims to their doom? I'm perfectly capable of waiting here until you're all done and I can get back to my safe, dry hotel room.”

Good Samaritan waved him off. “Nah, they're gone already. Ronon and Teyla took them out.”

Rodney looked around, craning his neck to see out the door of the wheelhouse to find the deck empty. He hadn't realised how much time had passed while he had been struggling to breathe.

“So, heart attack, huh? Let me guess. That whole near death, seize the day thing made you go a little crazy. Made you want to try things that you'd never have tried before.”

Rodney narrowed his gaze, looking intently at Good Samaritan. “You sound as if you’re speaking from experience,” he said.

Good Samaritan chuckled, shifting his hips as he moved position against the console. “Does crashing a helicopter, walking away from the military and moving to Hawaii to open a diving school count?”

“Seems like it worked out for you,” Rodney said, looking around the well-maintained boat. He may have gone temporarily insane when he signed up for shark diving but he had retained enough sanity to at least do his research. Pegasus School of Diving was one of the best reviewed and most successful diving schools in the country.

“That particular something new did,” Good Samaritan admitted. “But I definitely did some other things after the crash that didn't turn out so well.”

“As bad as this?” Rodney said, gesturing at himself.

“Wellll,” Good Samaritan drawled, “I _did_ have frosted tips for the first three months after I moved out here.”

Rodney couldn't help it as he started to laugh. Frosted tips were bad enough on anyone but just imagining them on this guy, with his seventy-six different cowlicks was too much.

Luckily, Good Samaritan didn't seem to mind as he grinned along with him. “Anyway,” he continued when Rodney had calmed down, “not everything new that I tried sucked. Maybe diving with sharks isn't for you but, hey, this is Hawaii. It's one of the most beautiful places in the world. I'm sure you'll find something else that captures your interest.”

Was it Rodney's imagination or did Good Samaritan blush as he said that? Rodney had always known that he was an equal opportunities kind of guy when it came to who he was attracted to but he hadn't indulged one side of that attraction since he was in college. Or, at least, he hadn't until after the heart attack. Good Samaritan was right. Not everything he had tried since the heart attack had turned out badly. In fact, some of it had been pretty damn amazing.

And, when it came to trying something new, a holiday fling was something he'd never indulged in before. What was the worst that could happen? If he got turned down the most he would have to suffer through was an awkward boat ride back to land before he never had to see Good Samaritan again.

Drawing in a breath, he took the plunge. “You, ah, you wouldn't happen to be free some time to show me just how good Hawaii could be would you?”

Good Samaritan looked a little confused and Rodney worried that he'd maybe been too subtle.

“That was me asking you out on a date,” he clarified quickly. “I'm not looking for a tour guide. I mean, haven't I already paid you enough money for the whole shark dive that I never even took? What's your refunds policy on that anyway?”

Good Samaritan’s shoulders shook with barely restrained laughter. “You get half of your money back,” he said. “You could maybe use it to buy me dinner. Have you tried Loco Moco yet?”

Rodney swallowed his shout of victory. “Uh, no. Will I like it?”

Good Samaritan smiled. “How will you know if you don't try? By the way, my name’s John. John Sheppard.” He held out his hand in greeting.

“Rodney,” Rodney replied, shaking John's hand. “Rodney McKay.” John's thumb stroked gently against the back of Rodney's hand and the touch shivered its way down Rodney's body until it reached his toes and he knew right then, with an almost certainty, that a holiday fling was definitely going to be one of his post-near death experience triumphs.

* * *

 

It wasn't. It was a complete and utter failure.

But the whole marriage thing? That was the greatest post near-death experience triumph he could have wanted.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also fills challenge 11 over at whatif_au. How did it get to be 11 challenges before I managed to contribute anything?!


End file.
